


red red wine

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, for my friends birthday, handjobs, homosexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ringo remembers Paul's favorite wine and Paul and is more than grateful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red red wine

Ringo watched as Paul picked at his guitar, focusing on the deeper sounds. Ringo always liked the sounds of those opposed to those high pitched sharp noises. Or perhaps Ringo liked anything Paul did on the guitar in general especially when he’d be playing a fast song and his fingers would have to switch between chords quickly. Paul had beautiful hands, and Ringo didn’t get to see them on a guitar as often as he’d like. But Paul’s hands looked lovely wrapped around the neck of a bass as well.

Ringo had been having romantic thoughts about Paul for some time now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about them. They were actually quite nice – Paul was beautiful and if Ringo were to be having gay feelings for any of his band mates, Ringo was glad that it was Paul – but Ringo wasn’t sure if he was actually gay or there was just something about Paul. He didn’t really care if he was gay. He had a gay cousin and he was pretty cool.

Not only that, but Paul was so confident with himself. He carried himself in such a way that Ringo could never attempt. If Paul was gay, he would feel fine with it and he wouldn’t give a fuck about anyone who disliked him for it. If this were the case, Ringo would know if Paul were gay. But, Paul never mentioned it, so he was certain that Paul was one hundred percent straight and would reject Ringo if he were to try and make a move, which he wouldn’t do. Ringo was far too nervous to talk to Paul about anything, really – Paul was very intimidating with his perfect posture and deep voice – let alone whether or not they should date.

Paul began to play with the guitar a bit more and finally found a nice repetitive melody. Ringo thought about the tune and began to play around his drums until he found a steady beat that matched the sound. Paul looked up from his guitar and smiled at Ringo. Ringo smiled back, fighting back a blush that threatened to appear on his cheeks. Ringo couldn’t be blushing over a friendly smile; that would give Paul the wrong idea, or, actually, the right idea. Ringo didn’t want Paul to find out about how Ringo felt about him unless he was the one telling Paul.

Paul kept his eyes on Ringo for a bit longer, before he looked back to his guitar so he could change chords. Ringo was disappointed that the somewhat intimate moment was over, but he was also grateful because he knew that if they held eye contact for much longer, Ringo would do something stupid like giggle or something else obvious.

Once they both stopped playing the little bit of a potential song, Paul put his guitar down and walked over to where Ringo sat. Ringo swallowed thickly, but tried to contain himself. Paul was probably just going to talk about music or something, it’s not like he was going to ask Ringo out on a date or anything.

“Hey, that was pretty good, wasn’t it?” Paul asked once he was next to Ringo. Ringo looked up at him and noticed how long Paul’s hair had gotten over the past few years. He’d had it cut recently, but it was still shaggy. Paul was absolutely beautiful with his cute little curls on his forehead and his cat-like face. Though it was a given, Paul had very pretty lips and his eyebrows were perfectly shaped. He’d been accused of waxing and plucking them and he’d always denied such claims, but Ringo was certain that he was lying. Either way, they were very natural looking. Paul had a perfectly proportional face, unlike Ringo. Ringo’s face seemed a bit too big for the given space on his head, not to mention that bloody nose. Ringo was so caught up in Paul’s looks that he’d completely forgotten that Paul was actually speaking to him.

“Uh, yeah, it was. You’re very good on the guitar,” Ringo said, and mentally slapped himself. Of course he was good on the guitar, he was Paul McCartney. Ringo had probably insulted him more than actually complimented him with that remark.

Paul didn’t seem to mind, though. A smile came to his face and he said, “Thank you. You’re quite a good drummer. You know, John was considering some other bloke, but I convinced him to give you a try.”

This time, the blush managed to make its way across his face. He’d never been told that before, and he almost thought Paul was lying. But then he thought back to his first days in the band. Paul was so nice to him while John seemed irritated with his very existence. (Ringo didn’t know that John had been upset over something about Cynthia, not Ringo’s presence.)

“Really?” Ringo asked through a grin.

“Yeah. I’m glad I did, too. You’re a lovely addition to our band,” Paul said, one of his hands slipping to his hip and the other going to his mouth, chewing at his nails. “And very talented, too.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ringo said. Paul had always been very nice to him - everyone really. Paul was just a compliment giver. He always had something nice to say about everyone.

A quick flash of worry filled Paul’s face. It was barely noticeable, but Ringo saw it. He’d gotten very good at reading Paul. He didn’t say anything, though. It didn’t really seem to bother Paul that much.

“Do you think you could come to my place tonight? I’m gonna be alone, and I think if we really worked on this song it could be album material,” Paul said and removed his hand from his lips. He tapped at one the cymbals. “I mean, if you’re not doing anything tonight.”

Ringo shook his head quickly. “Yeah, sure. That’d be great. I’ll come by around seven. Is that alright?” He was wrong. Paul kind of did ask him if they could be together, if only to work on a song, but it was something.

“That’s perfect. This shit’ll be over soon, and I’ll get ready – I mean, I’ll get the instruments ready,” Paul said smiling softly. He began to walk away, but he turned around and said quickly, “Oh, and bring some wine. Red.”

-

Once six thirty had arrived, Ringo was getting ready to go. He’d put on a sweater (he’d wanted to get dressed up, but he thought that he might seem a bit too overdressed, and, God, that’d be embarrasing) and some old pants. He’d made sure they were clean, though. They were hard to find, considering he always procrastinated whenever it came to laundry. He’d washed and combed his hair. For the alcohol deal, he’d gotten some wine that Paul had mentioned liking a while ago. The fact that he remembered what wine Paul liked should make Paul notice that Ringo cared for him, right?

Once Ringo had gotten finished, he’d looked at himself in the mirror. He had to admit, he looked quite handsome. If he was going to make a move on Paul, tonight would be the night. Ringo got in the car and drove to Paul’s house. He checked his watch when he got there. He was five minutes early. He applauded himself for being punctual. He walked up to the door and knocked softly.

While waiting for a response, he thought about how the night could end. Ringo could just forget about his stupid attraction to Paul and the two could bash out a song worthy of the next album. (“The best one yet,” as John liked to put it). That’s what Paul was expecting, and Ringo thought, for a moment, that perhaps that’s all that should happen tonight. There so many things that could go wrong if Ringo confessed his feelings toward Paul. Paul could hate him. It could be the end of the band, and Ringo would not be the one to ruin this for them. He’d been the last in the band, he he was not going to be the one who fucked things up. Each of them had wanted to be famous, and here they were. They were living the dream, and Ringo didn’t to ruin that for them. Not now.

No, Ringo though to himself. I told myself that I was going to do it and I am going to fucking do it.

Ringo noticed just how long he’d been standing at Paul’s doorstep, and there had been no one come to the door. Ringo’s heart swelled a little. Paul had forgotten their date, and he’d gone out. (It wasn’t actually a date, Ringo tried to tell himself. It was just a half-band meeting of sorts. Or maybe Paul had thought about inviting the other two.) It didn’t surpise Ringo. Ringo was not important in the life of Paul McCartney.

Paul McCartney the Magnificent! Paul McCartney the Stunning! The Flawless, The Extravagent, The Fine, The Rockstar! Paul McCartney the bloody Bassist.

Ringo thought that he might as well give it another go, just out of self-pity and for a bit of laugh. He knocked on the door and called out, “Paul? Are you home?”

Nothing, of course. Ringo sighed and sat the bottle of wine next to the door. Paul would see it and feel bad about forgetting Ringo. Screw Paul.

“Ringo?”

Ringo turned at the sound of his name and saw Paul standing in the yard with bags in his hands. He had a confused look on his face, but it slowly formed into a smile.

“You’re three minutes early. I just went out to the store to get some things,” Paul said, putting everything in one hand as he dug into his pocket for his keys. Ringo picked up the wine bottle, hoping that Paul hadn’t seen it. It was a dick move on Ringo’s part. “I was getting ready for tonight and noticed that I didn’t have any food. I got some biscuits and bread and cheese. You brought the wine, didn’t you? Yes? Good. Oh my God, I love that wine. How’d you know? Remember when we had it in that horrid American hotel? I got drunk out of me mind, didn’t I? I haven’t had any si-“

Ringo notices how beautiful Paul really is as he rambles on, and he realizes just how stupid he is for taking it for granted at not doing anything about it.

Ringo sat the wine bottle down gently (because Paul loved it and it was hard to find and like hell Ringo was going to ruin it) and walked over to Paul, who was going on about wine and cheese and other silly things that Ringo couldn’t care less about at the moment, and he wrapped his hand around Paul’s wrist. Paul stopped rambling, and looked down at Ringo.

“You remembered my favorite wine,” Paul said softly.

“Yes, I did,” Ringo replies.

Ringo thought this was the perfect moment to go in for the kiss, but he did not get the chance.

Paul threw the groceries down and gripped Ringo’s hair roughly. Ringo yelped, but the sound was caught by Paul, who was crushing his lips against Ringo’s almost painfully. Their teeth clashed, but it didn’t seem to bother Paul because he kept his mouth moving against Ringo’s. There was a slick sucking sound in the air, and Ringo couldn’t process what was happening before it was over.

Paul backed away a few steps and wiped his mouth on his arm. Ringo took a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. There was a bit of a quiet spell where they simply stared at each other. Paul was the one to break this silence.

“Was that okay?” Paul asked.

Ringo says, “A bit rough, but all around, yeah.”

Ringo knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it brought Paul to life, and Paul was back on him. His hands were in Ringo’s hair like before, pulling, gripping, and kneading. Ringo moaned and his hands were on Paul’s hips. Paul stepped toward Ringo a little and sucked Ringo’s lower lip into his mouth. Paul ground his hips into Ringo’s roughly, eliciting a deep groan from Ringo’s throat. Paul moaned as Ringo pulled Paul closer to him and pulled away from Paul’s lip slightly and said, “Can we … do you want to-“

“Oh yes,” Paul sighed. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Ringo.”

Ringo laughed against Paul’s lips, and then pressed his lips against Paul’s again. This one was gentler than the others, because Ringo just wanted to feel Paul’s lips against his. Paul’s lips were amazingly soft, but rough in a masculine way. Paul’s hands loosened from Ringo’s hair, and one went to Ringo’s jaw, the other to the small of Ringo’s back. Ringo’s hands kneaded Paul’s hips and he smiled against Paul’s lips.

Paul smiled, too, and the kiss began to get awkward, so both men pulled away.

“I’m sorry for attacking you like that, but, God, at that moment, I knew that I had to kiss you. I only said that it was my favorite wine that night, and we were all pissed off our heads, but you remembered. God, you remembered, and I knew that you cared a lot about me and Ringo, fuck, I just – I just had to kiss you. I knew there was a chance that I was wrong and that you could just have a good memory, but there was the slightest chance that you felt like I did, and I just fucking went for it, and I’m so glad I did because –“

Ringo shut Paul up with a kiss, and laughed, “Shut up, you dope.”

Paul laughed as well, but it quickly turned into a seductive chuckle. “Do you wanna go inside?”

Ringo bit his lip and nodded gently. Paul took Ringo’s hand and ran toward the door. Ringo had to struggle to keep up with him, because he was still a bit shaken up over what had happened and Paul was running really fucking fast, but that made Ringo happy because it showed that Paul was as anxious for this as Ringo was.

“I’m gonna fuck you and then we’re gonna drink this whole bottle of wine and I’m gonna fuck you again.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Ringo said as Paul began to unlock the door. Ringo shifted from foot to foot in anticipation. Ringo hadn’t actualy thought of the technical parts of sleeping with Paul. He’d never been with another man before, let alone been fucked by one. He was nervous, but Paul made it sound exciting, and he simply couldn’t say no.

Once Paul got the door unlocked and opened, he threw Ringo against the wall. Ringo made a weird noise in his throat but smiled. He was totally ready for this. The smile was sucked off his face by Paul’s lips. Ringo ran his hands down Paul’s sides and one went to Paul’s crotch. Ringo pressed against it roughly, and cupped Paul’s bulge. Ringo could feel the outline of Paul’s cock, and, God, he wanted it.

Paul moaned and detached his lips from Ringo’s. He let out a string of moans as he bucked into Ringo’s hand. Ringo palmed Paul through his pants as he placed his mouth on Paul’s neck and began to suck a mark into the skin. Paul’s head leaned to the side, and Ringo nibbled at the bruise he’d created.

“Ringo,” Paul moaned, his voice higher than normal.

Ringo took this as an encouragment and he pulled away from Paul’s skin, leaving a little kiss over the bruise. Ringo began to undo the buttons on Paul’s shirt as he stared into Paul’s eyes. They’d changed shade, and were shining. Ringo smiled softly and said, “You’re so beautiful.”

A blush came up on Paul’s face, and he tugged at the hem of Ringo’s sweater, and kissed a spot on Ringo’s neck. “I want to see you. Take this off.”

Ringo grabbed Paul’s hips and and turned around so Paul was against the wall. Paul looked startled for a moment, but his lips fell open and hot breaths slipped out. Ringo pulled his sweater over his head and threw it away from them. Ringo watched Paul’s eyes scraped down’s Ringo’s chest. Ringo brought one of Paul’s slender hands to his chest and covered it with his own.

“Touch me, Paul,” Ringo said. Paul nodded and ran his hands over Ringo’s chest, his fingers brushing Ringo’s nipples and making him shiver. Ringo eventually got Paul’s shirt unbuttoned, and he attacked the skin there with his mouth. His tongue ran over Paul’s skin, and Paul’s hands were fumbling with Ringo’s belt. Ringo usually helped the birds that he was with undo his belt, but Paul felt so nice under his fingers that he couldn’t take his hands away.

Ringo’s mouth moved to one of Paul’s nipples and sucked at it gently, and then bit roughly.

“Shit,” Paul hissed, pushing Ringo’s boxers and pants down in one go. Ringo shuddered at the cold and how naked he was in front of Paul. Ringo was pushed away quickly, and Paul’s eyes were hungrily drinking him in.

“You’ve got scars,” Paul said, licking his lips.

“Yeah, I do,” Ringo said, covering them with his hands. “You’ve seen them before, haven’t you?”

“Never really looked at them,” Paul said.

“I was in the hospital for a long time when I was young,” Ringo said, pulling at his skin out of nervousness. “They said the scars could go away over time, but I think they’re here to stay.”

Paul walked toward Ringo and moved Ringo’s hand.

“Don’t cover,” Paul said, smiling. “I think they’re lovely. I think you’re lovely.”

Ringo smiled and their lips found their way back to each other. Paul wrapped Ringo’s arms around his neck and lifted his thighs. Ringo jumped slightly, unsure if Paul could hold his weight. Ringo didn’t have to worry for long though, because Paul only carried him to the couch. Paul laid him down gently and then crawled on top of him. Paul sat on Ringo’s thighs, Ringo’s hard cock only inches away from Paul.

“You ever been with a guy before?” Paul asked, runnning his hands over Ringo’s stomach. Ringo shakes his head no, and Paul says, “I haven’t either. I thought it’d be weird, but it’s really not, is it? It’s very natural. It’s not a random bloke; it’s you.”

As Paul finished his sentence, one of his slender hands wrapped around Ringo’s cock. Ringo pushes himself up on his elbows, but Paul’s other hand is pressing him down.

“If it were any other guy, it’d be weird. George is too lanky, John is too cocky, but you … you’re just Richie. I feel like, I dunno, I could do this forever. You under my hands, my mouth. You’re like a god or something –“

“Paul, what the hell are you talking about?” Ringo asked, wanting to laugh but he was too focused on Paul’s cool hand on his cock. “I’m not-“

“Shut up, you are,” Paul said sternly, squeezing Ringo in his fingers. “You remembered my wine, Ringo. My wine. We drunk it once, and you remembered! You’re made for me. I was destined to find you.”

“Paul, you’re babbling,” Ringo hisses. “Just, get on with it.”

Paul quickened his pace, fisting Ringo’s cock like he lived for it.

“Paul,” Ringo groaned. “Fuck, yeah, just like that.Shit.”

“Is that good?” Paul asked, running his thumb over the tip. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Ringo sighed. “So good, Paul, so good.”

“I change my mind about fucking you,” Paul said, hissing. “I want you to come like this, all over my hand. I want to see you fall apart just like this.”

“O-“

Ringo wanted to say okay, maybe just to make conversation, but then one of Paul’s hands went down his his balls and squeezed them. It stunned Ringo enough to keep him quiet. Ringo let his head fall back and decided just to shut the fuck up and enjoy it.

Paul’s hand was perfectly sloppy and squeezed Ringo just right. Ringo knew it was enough to get him going, but he needed something to push him over the edge. Just one thing would drive him overboard.

Paul fumbled with his belt and eventually pulled his cock out of its restraints and he began to jerk himself off at the same rate of which he did Ringo. Paul threw his head back and hissed, “Richie-“

Ringo arched his back as he came. It ran over Paul’s fist and pooled in Ringo’s navel. Paul leaned his body over Ringo’s and grinded his cock against Ringo’s stomach. Ringo lazily ground the heel of his hands into Pauls’ cock and kissed the side of his face gently.

“Come on, Paul,” Ringo cooed. “Come on, baby. Baby. Luv, come on. Cum for me.”

Paul’s breath hitched as he came, his cum mixing with Ringo’s in Ringo’s bellybutton. Paul’s hot breath licked up Ringo’s neck, and Ringo ran his hands over Paul’s sides. “Baby. Baby.”

Paul scooped up a glob of the cum mixture from Ringo’s bellybutton and sucked it from his fingers. Paul grimaced and wiped his fingers off on his pants.

“That’s fucking sick,” Paul said, frowning. “How do people do it? Fuck, fuck, ew.”

“You shouldn’t have done it then,” Ringo said, laughing. “Maybe if you kiss me, that taste will go away.”

“Cheeky,” Paul said, and leaned down to place his lips on Ringo’s. Then he pulled away and said, “I think that wine’ll do the trick.”

Paul climbed off Ringo and retrieved the wine from the floor and brought it back to Ringo.

“Don’t we need glasses?” Ringo said, scratching his stomach subconsciously.

“I’m drinking from the bottle tonight, dear Ringo,” Paul said, taking a big swig. “Cheers, to the happy couple.”

Paul made a clinking noise with his mouth and took another drink and handed it to Ringo, who drunk it happily.

Ringo grinned and said, “Yeah, to the happy couple.”

They finished their bottle of wine over small chit chat, and, as Paul had said, they fucked afterwards.


End file.
